SmartassWriter

The flames were always there. Always in various shades of red like a slow burning fire. Why red though? He never really thought much on it. Red had always been his favorite color as a kid. Red, just like his father’s boxing robe and gloves. So maybe that’s why the vibrant color filled his mind. It was some sort of deep, psychological thing. Honestly, he couldn’t care less. A quick movement to the left of him sent a flare of bright red against the other muted shades that blended with the darkness. It lingered for a moment; a slight curve set against a curtain of maroon, and then slowly flickered away. The room had gone still

Cloud could walk. His legs were shaky and his knees felt like rubber, but with the amount of adrenaline and pure fear in his blood he kept moving. Blood continued to drip from his hairline into his eyes, but he was too preoccupied to wipe it away. "You need to sit down, sir." The white jacketed doctor urged him, "Your injuries are serious." He glanced over his shoulder, "I need some help over here! This is an emergency!" Cloud roughly shoved past the doctor and continued down the white hall leaving a trail of blood drops as he went. His blue eyes darted across the room looking for the white bed he had been following. "...9:24 PM. Mark it d